Page 76 of At First Flight
“Oh,” I moan, and he quickly shifts to the other breast, giving it the same amount of devotion as the other.
My fingers curl tighter in his hair, holding on like it’s the only thing binding me to earth. My body trembles, unraveling under his touch, the pressure mounting until it crests in a wave I couldn’t hold back if I tried.
“That’s it, baby,” Dean murmurs against my skin, his voice low and rough. “Good girl. Let go for me.”
His words fall like embers, each one lighting another fuse inside me. I cry out his name, the sound broken and breathless, my forehead dropping to his shoulder as I cling to him. Every inch of me pulses with aftershocks, my heartbeat echoing between my ribs like a drum.
He doesn’t move away. Doesn’t rush. Instead, his arms wrap tight around me, holding me through every quiver and quake, grounding me. He whispers against my temple, kisses scattered along my jaw and neck. Soft, reverent, addictive. Histeeth graze the delicate skin beneath my ear, and I shiver again, a fresh ripple of heat curling in my belly.
When I finally lift my head, I find him watching me.
His eyes are nearly black with want, pupils blown so wide they eclipse the chocolate brown I’ve come to crave. His lips are kiss-swollen, red from mine. His hair, thick and tousled from my grip, falls over his forehead in a way that should be illegal. He looks utterly wrecked.
And it’s because of me.
The thought sends another shiver through me. His chest rises and falls in deep, measured breaths, but I can see the restraint it takes. He’s still hard beneath the thin fabric of his boxers, the sight enough to have my mouth go dry.
Dean lifts a hand, brushing hair back from my damp forehead before gently tugging my camisole into place. He cups my face in his palms, thumbs stroking over my cheekbones, tender and full of worship.
“You okay?” he asks, his voice hoarse.
More than okay. I feel worshipped.
I nod, unable to speak just yet, my body still humming with the afterglow. And as he leans in to press a kiss to my forehead, I already know I’m in trouble.
Because this wasn’t just a release. This was falling.
“That was so hot, baby. I could watch you come a million times, but next time it's going to be in my bed and on my cock.” His words cut through the quiet, that familiar blend of confidence and tease curling around me like a warm blanket. The edge of arrogance that once caught me off guard now feels like an anchor, something steady and unmistakably him.
My core throbs with the image, but before I can even formulate any response, a distraction in the form of a three-and-a-half-foot-tall child wanders into the kitchen rubbing his eyes. “Daddy? My tummy hurts.”
“I’m sorry, kiddo. Let me get you a glass of water, and I’ll come sit with you for a little bit, okay?” Dean tells Oliver, who nods and heads back toward the stairs.
Not giving me a chance to slide down from the counter, Dean steps back in, his broad frame surrounding me, one hand braced beside my thigh while the other hovers just inches from my waist. I feel caged, yet not in a bad way. More like bound to something real for the first time in a long time. His body heat sears through my skin, and the look in his eyes makes it clear he’s not ready to let this moment slip away.
“Give this a chance, Lila,” he says, voice low and full of something raw. “A real shot. What just happened tonight? That wasn’t just passing time.”
I know he’s right. My body still trembles from the way he touched me, like I mattered. Like I was everything. And that’s what terrifies me the most.
“I know,” I breathe, my voice softer than I’d like. “It was… incredible. I just—” I pause, searching for words that don’t make me sound like I’m trying to talk myself out of the one thing I want. “I’ve been guarded for so long, I don’t know how not to be.”
His hand brushes a few stray hairs away from my cheek, the tenderness in the gesture making my throat tighten. “You have every right to be, sweetheart,” he murmurs. “Just… remember how good this can be.”
I swallow hard. I want this—him. Not just the kisses and the electric touches that make me forget my own name. I wantthe connection, the emotion that settles deep in my chest like an anchor. I cross my arms out of habit, trying to hide the chill of the fabric against my flushed skin, only for his gaze to follow, dragging slowly across my chest.
I lift my chin and meet his eyes. “We take it slow,” I say, stronger this time. “Not because I don’t want you, because I do. Probably more than I should. But I need to feel like I’m walking into this with my eyes wide open. No regrets. No second-guessing.”
The tension in his shoulders shifts, and something primal flickers in his gaze. And when his lips curl into a slow, satisfied grin, I know I’ve just rewritten the rules of this game, and we’re both all in.
Dean silences me with a kiss once more, nibbling at my lower lip with his teeth.
“We can go as slow or as fast as you want, baby. Just don’t overthink it. No need for regrets. Now, I’m going to go cuddle a kiddo for a while.” Grabbing my glass of water from earlier, Dean downs the liquid and steps back from the counter.
My eyes dart down to the erection barely contained by the boxers.
“Guess I should go throw on some pants. I don’t want to traumatize the poor kid.”
I don’t waste any time getting back to my room, though every ounce of my vagina begs me to head to Dean’s room instead.
